


want to tell you how much

by bulletbulletbullet



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is so soft i don't know what happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletbulletbullet/pseuds/bulletbulletbullet
Summary: “Hyung.”Minho keeps smiling at him, lips curled in the way that always gives Jisung butterflies. “Jisungie.”“I love you.” It feels so good to say it that Jisung wonders why he’s been so afraid for so long.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 10
Kudos: 128





	want to tell you how much

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day, fellow minsungers!
> 
> title is from cat power's "sea of love."

The setting sun casts a rosy glow over Minho’s living room where Jisung is tucked into the couch, watching the credits roll for the most recent episode of the drama they’ve been powering through. Jisung feels warm all over, peachy pink in the rays of light streaming through the gap in the curtains, but he knows he would feel the same even if it was midday or midnight or any time, as long as he was with Minho.

Minho, who strolls back into the room with Dori winding around his ankles, pressing a hot cup of jasmine tea (with far too much honey, just the way Jisung likes it) into Jisung’s hands before settling back down next to him, his own mug cradled safely as he makes himself comfortable, kicking his socked feet into Jisung’s lap. Jisung doesn’t even complain, even if he can almost hear Changbin’s cough of _‘whipped’_ in his head. Jisung can smell the rose tea in Minho’s cup, a scent that always makes Jisung feel content in a way he can’t put to words. Minho always drinks rose tea when he’s feeling sentimental.

Minho’s love of tea was one of the things that tipped Jisung over the edge from wanting to be Minho’s best friend to wanting to be Minho’s _everything_.

He was such a mystery when Chan introduced them - he seemed so cool, so beautiful and indifferent and a little bit rough around the edges, his hair dyed navy blue, listening to the craziest music, always pushing his friends away at the first hint of physical affection. He only drank iced americanos and all of his clothes were black and it seemed like he didn’t care what anyone thought about him. Even then Jisung had thought he was so _sexy_ , loathe as he was to admit it before he came to terms with how he really felt about Minho.

Then Jisung started to learn how _warm_ Minho actually was. He cared about the people around him so much and he showed it in the strangest ways, completely endearing himself to his friends even as they questioned his sanity. He never stopped talking about his cats, not even if people begged him to. His whole apartment was soft and cushy and full of knitted blankets and velvety throw pillows in every color under the sun. He loved to cook even if he wasn’t always successful at it. He liked to sing along - loudly and completely unashamed - to whatever song was playing wherever they were.

And then there was the tea. He was obsessed with tea, possessing a whole cabinet dedicated to every variety under the sun - ‘ _there’s a tea for every mood, Jisungie_ ,’ he’d said the first time he’d made Jisung tea - and another cabinet full of the tackiest mismatched mugs he could find. He liked to choose tea for his friends, and he was annoyingly good at knowing what to make for each person, attuned to their moods in a way that was often surprising, always offering it up in a mug that seemed to have been created for that exact moment in time.

A few months into their friendship, and a few weeks into Jisung and Minho being completely attached at the hip, Jisung had been on the couch and Minho had proudly presented him with a cup of tea like he usually did, but this time he chirped a little ‘ _ta da_ ’ as he passed it off to Jisung.

“Do you like it?”

“I haven’t tried it yet, hyung-ah, you just handed it to me!” Jisung had laughed, Minho scrunching his face up in faux-annoyance.

“Not the tea, dummy. Your mug!”

Jisung looked down at the mug in question, realizing slowly that it wasn’t one he’d seen before. It was printed with an image from Howl’s Moving Castle; Sophie was wrapped in Howl’s wings, and suddenly Jisung felt like crying.

“Mine?” His voice was a croak, the single word all he could get out around the lump that was forming in his throat.

Minho nodded, smiling a tiny, pleased smile at Jisung. “Yours.”

He didn’t need to explain it to Jisung, didn’t need to put to words that this was his way of showing that Jisung was special to him, that he was happy with how much time they spent together, that he wanted Jisung to be a part of his life for long enough that it warranted having his own mug for tea here in Minho’s home. Jisung knew it all, the same way that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in love with Minho.

That had been months ago and Jisung still hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything about it.

Their friends teased him endlessly about it, though usually not in front of Minho, which he was begrudgingly thankful for. Felix assured him that they teased Minho the same way.

Now here he is, clutching _his_ mug, staring stupidly at Minho’s little only-for-Jisung smile in the light of the setting sun, jasmine-and-rose steam curling around them, so in love that it _hurts_. He usually fights these feelings down, but something about this moment makes him want to be brave.

“Hyung.”

Minho keeps smiling at him, lips curled in the way that always gives Jisung butterflies. “Jisungie.”

“I love you.” It feels so good to say it that Jisung wonders why he’s been so afraid for so long.

“Ah, you know I love you too, Sung-ah.” Minho’s voice is warm, but Jisung falters - Minho doesn’t understand. He thinks Jisung loves him like he loves all of their friends. Jisung’s heart drops into his stomach, his pulse racing as he drops his eyes to his tea.

“No, hyung - not like that.” His voice is quiet, and he sounds discouraged even to himself. “Like, I’m _in love_ with you.”

He doesn’t realize Minho has moved until his hands are on Jisung’s face, warm from the tea he’s just put down on the coffee table. “Jisungie.” Minho leans closer, tilting Jisung’s face up so that he has no choice but to meet Minho’s eyes. “I meant it that way too, silly.” His tone is so fond that Jisung feels tears forming in his eyes.

“Really?”

Minho nods, face so close to Jisung’s that their noses brush.

“Oh.”

Minho’s thumbs brush away the wetness under Jisung’s eyes, and then he leans in and presses their lips together.

It feels like the sunset is inside of Jisung’s chest, warm golden light filling him up and threatening to burst out of him. Minho pulls back, and Jisung tries to follow him, stopped by a hand on his chest as Minho giggles, reaching down with his other hand to pluck Jisung’s mug away, leaning to set it down on the coffee table next to his own. Jisung flushes, embarrassed by his eagerness, thankful that at least one of them had the presence of mind to save them both from having their laps full of very hot tea.

His blush only deepens when he ends up with a lap full of Minho instead.

Minho leans in again, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s shoulders, brushing his lips over Jisung’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“Say it again, hyung.”

Maybe Minho is just as whipped as Jisung, because he doesn’t tease him at all. He tells Jisung he loves him over and over again between soft kisses as the sun sets, their tea growing cold on the table.

**Author's Note:**

> can i actually write fluff without smut? did i pull it off? who knows - certainly not me!
> 
> find me on (nsfw) twitter [@bulletfic](https://twitter.com/bulletfic).


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